


Origins

by friedhotsauce



Series: Words to Middle-Earth [7]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Poetry, head canon on Tauriel's origin, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedhotsauce/pseuds/friedhotsauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What are you, lady Tauriel?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A battle has ended

Again, the good light continues to

Prevail 

But either side is not without its

Casualties

 

Arwen Undomiel

The ‘Evenstar’ of her people

Helps dutifully to collect 

The remnant corpses

Bluing bodies of man and elf

And more men and more elves

Cover the hills

Arwen retrieves her share

And stacks them on to

The wooden hearse

As she nears the bottom of a slope

A slender willow branch

Catches her ankles

The maiden spins in her fright to see

An ent?

No, this creature could not be that of an ent

For the tree-people

Are much too resembling

Of actual trees

This one’s features are much too

Humanoid

Unmistakeable

Arms, legs, and face

Perfectly sculpted of 

Smooth

Sandy wood

Head sprouting

Thin dreadlocks of

Lengthy red leaves

Yellow-amber eyes

Wide awake

 

Lady Arwen is so

Captivated by this mysterious

Ent

She almost does not see

The pool of brown sap 

That steadily leaks

Out of its torso

And almost does not

Hear the soft

Breeze-like 

Plead for help

 

The Evenstar

Snaps her head from

Space

And takes the ent

In her arms

Intrigue

Makes the lady strong

She carries him

For miles to the healing tents

Of the war camp

 

Some poultice here

A medical spell there

And a few stitches later

The ent soldier lives 

And leaves for

His forest home

But not before thanking the maiden 

That saved his life

He takes her 

Cloud-coloured hand

In his 

Dark, knobby, root-like one

And kisses her wrist

With sanded lips

Arwen kisses back

The tree-man 

Thinks of the action

As a sort of light competition

He must one-up her before leaving

 

He kisses her cheek

She kisses back

He kisses her forehead

She kisses back

It is clear as daylight

To see where this is going

He kisses her lips

She kisses back

And they do not stop 

Until the mouths between their thighs

Touch

 


	2. Chapter 2

Arwen awakens 

And finds her 

Ent lover

Dead

Bathing in his sap

Just as how they met

Damn

The Evenstar knows

She is to blame

Seems that Arwen had not

Completely

Brought her mind from the 

Stratosphere

She snarls at the lazy

Stitch work

And vows 

To flog herself

Should the burn of 

Passion

Ever possess her again

 

She will give him 

A funeral fit for 

An ent king

A place in the royal fireplace

Of Rivendell

 

Her mourning lasts

An appropriate amount of time

Then life and routine

Resumes comfortably

And normally

Until

Arwen walks the halls

Of her palace home

One evening

Her aura is sickly and

Agitated

It has been for weeks now

The matter is small

A healer is unnecessary 

 

Suddenly

The maiden stops in her tracks

And hugs her stomach

As an un-missable

Flutter occurs 

Alike to a flurry of butterflies

Or the sway of stringed beads on skin

Or a pair of feet

A secret grows inside 

The Evenstar

 

Those who are

In her good favour

Keep her secret

In a mental lockbox

Her maids

And servants

And healers

Even her brothers

Promise on

Ancient graves

To never let Lord Elrond

Suspect a thing

But Arwen’s secret is 

Growing

And weighs heavily

Not only on her mind

But on her body as well

And Elrond is not one to be easily fooled

 

Lately 

The maiden has been

Catching her father

Glancing uncomfortably long

At her form

During mealtimes

It won’t be long before

The binds around her torso become

Dangerous to use

“ _Adar.”_ Arwen begins

Eyes dripping with emotion

She fears his disappointment

And probable disgust

The lady sees

Exile 

In the not-too-distant future


	3. Chapter 3

Arwen forgets that

The lord of Rivendell

Is a righteous ruler

And gentle father

He thumbs away her tears

And embraces

His daughter

And unborn grandchild

Everything feels right again

But 

There is an unmistakeable

Sorrowful glint

In the corner of his eye

Arwen does not address it

She will try to live in bliss

For as long as possible

 

The months pass

And they are the best months

The Evenstar has ever lived

In all her centuries

Time passes

In periods

Of soft sun light

And humming rain

The colour of

Baby pink

Dominates her life

Arwen is sure

She will bring forth 

A granddaughter and niece

To her family

The feeling of

A small feminine force

Reigns internally

“She will mirror her mother,” Elrohir and Elladan agree.

“I wish her not to.” Arwen confirms.

Suddenly remembering

Her father’s sad eyes

That one night

Months ago

 

The lady 

Tries to piece together

Lullabies for her baby

But she was never any good

At music composition

No matter

It seems that the simple

Beat of her heart

Is enough to make

The child move

With a delicate ferocity

She will perhaps become

A skilled dancer

Or

An equally skilled

Warrioress 


	4. Chapter 4

The maiden is smiling

When the midwife

Watches the waterfall

Spill from

Arwen’s womanly cave

To the attendant’s surprise

The Evenstar

Steadily skips out of

The safety of her chambers

The stone walls 

Are constricting her from breath

No one stops the lady 

From venturing outside

And into the encircling forest

Her jingling anklets

Sound with her every step

Far or near 

They will find her when she allows herself to be found

She knows very well what she is doing

It is unwise to question the Evenstar

 

Arwen walks 

Until she cannot bear to stand

The maiden half-sits

Against the trunk

Of a shading fig tree

It cannot be her imagination

The feeling of the branches

Hugging her body

Defensively

Is too real of a sight

Arwen expects soul-wrenching pain

That would make her regret

Walking out on the midwife

But she feels no such thing

She is numb

And calm

The maiden lies

Patient

The child may take all the time in the universe

So long as Arwen has the clouds and stars

To watch in the meanwhile

 

A shrieking cry

Alerts her sleepy senses

The baby girl 

Lies between her legs

“Welcome, my love,” Arwen coos

Immediately recognizing the child 

As hers

Arwen’s daughter

Who is attached by 

An umbilical cord

Of a thick tree root

Inherits her mother’s 

Milky complexion

And that is all

Otherwise, her appearance is all her own

Emerald eyes

And a fiery crown

Her ent father lingers only

In her wooden bones

But she won’t come to know of it

Not yet, that is

 

Arwen snaps the

Temporary cord

By the sharp of her anklets

The fig tree releases her

And the maiden plants

The organs of afterbirth

Into the soil as a thanks

And saunters home

Happily drowning

In maternal glee

Unknowing of 

What is to come


	5. Chapter 5

“Mirkwood.”

“No.”

“Mirkwood.”

“Never.”

“She will be better off there.”

“What will she receive there, that she cannot here?”

“Come now darling, do not exert yourself.”

“Tell me!”

The baby wails

“Now look what you’ve done! She was sleeping well enough.”

Elrond musters the truth

“She will receive a parent of mature age.”

Oh Arwen

Dear Arwen

You forget in your little fortress of

Motherly matters

That you are

But a child yourself

With much to learn

You have many an age to conquer

Before you reach adulthood

Surely your perfect daughter

Would be of no nuisance to you now

Right?

Oh Arwen

You may be the Evenstar

But there is still so much to learn

Surely you would want 

The best for her and yourself

Don’t you?

Another royal

That’s close enough

Isn’t it?

Isn’t the very best

Your father could do

Enough?

 

The Evenstar

Quickly learns how 

Her daughter’s emotions function

Though her throat strains

With the weight of tears

She mustn’t let the baby 

Hear or see them

Should she begin

And never stop

Crying

Quarter of the way to 

Mirkwood

In a horse-drawn carriage

They both must be on their best behaviours

To steady her

Buzzing brain

Arwen decorates

And redecorates her daughter

Presentation is everything

In this world

Even with newborns

The lady settles on a 

Simple green robe

That complements her daughter’s hair

Arwen laces the golden anklets

She wore that fateful day

Around the baby’s neck

One day her bones

Will grow to fit 

Them appropriately

But Arwen will never know

When that day will be


	6. Chapter 6

Thranduil and Legolas

Make the welcoming party

At the kingdom’s entrance

Better that way

Arwen is known for 

Her controlled

Features

She has no energy

To deal with a new reputation

The Elvenking’s

Eyes sparkle upon

Taking sight of the

New arrivals

He hugs Arwen tight

But the maiden’s 

Body is limp

Save for her bent arms

“May I?” He asks, motioning for

The pink bundle in her arms

Arwen hands the baby to the king

Depression overcomes 

Her black fabricated form

When Thranduil

Crouches to a timid Legolas

And introduces the children

 

The recently wife-less

Elvenking’s aura

Shines with a long-forgotten

Happiness 

Arwen wishes not to disturb 

This carefully crafted 

Peace

 

She wades back to the

Awaiting carriage

Clutching her 

Aching heart

As her hands will

No longer have a child to hold

“Wait!” Thranduil calls

The maiden obeys

“What have you named her?”

Arwen regains her composure

The name of her daughter

Will only be said with the utmost

Of dignity

“Her name is

Tauriel.”


End file.
